


Is conman really short for condiment man?

by Taliax



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Alphys/Undyne (Undertale), Minor Sans/Toriel (Undertale), POV Undyne (Undertale), Post-Undertale Neutral Route, Post-Undertale Neutral Route - Queen Toriel Ending, Queen Toriel (Undertale), Sans' Illegal Hot Dog Stand (Undertale), i just want undyne to work at the forbidden hot dog stand ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:16:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29916087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliax/pseuds/Taliax
Summary: While working at their illegal hot dog stand, Sans and Undyne talk about what really matters.
Relationships: Sans & Undyne (Undertale)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Is conman really short for condiment man?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic sponsored by the Cheekface album ["Emphatically No,"](https://cheekface.bandcamp.com/album/emphatically-no) the song [Me Want Bite](https://open.spotify.com/album/0Um5RSnK5NM1iDVcxA283c?highlight=spotify:track:5G0GAvpivaEavBXIjA2Ktm), and [this very nice pastel nihilism sans art by sansybones.](https://a-conveniently-shaped-lamp.tumblr.com/post/638316302167130113) As always toggle that "hide creator's style" button if Sans talking in his font is hard to read :)
> 
> This fic takes place on the neutral route where Undyne works at Sans's hot dog stand, specifically where Undyne hasn't been befriended and only Asgore has been killed.

“It’s on the house. Well, no. It’s on you.” Sans winked at the kid as he set a hot dog on their head. Weeks of being followed around by the little yellow monster, and Undyne still hadn’t learned their name. 

She probably would’ve cared, if she’d still cared about anything.

Sans elbowed her in the side.

“Hey, slacker. Kid wants another ‘dog.”

Ugh. She forced a toothy grin, more out of habit than anything.

“They’ve already got two on their head. They’re not going to eat them,” she said through gritted teeth. They didn’t have arms, so they couldn’t have eaten them even if they wanted to.

Alphys could probably build them arms. She’d built Mettaton, after all. Helping kids eat hot dogs was probably better use of her time than slaving away in her lab, trying to fulfill the Queen’s impossible request.

“That’s their parents’ problem.”  Sans shrugged. “You don’t pay the bills by questioning your customers, Undies.”

She hated that nickname. She hated this stupid job. She hated this stupid skeleton’s stupid grin and this _stupid kid_ who still looked at her like she was a hero.

If she was really a hero, she would’ve been able to kill one stupid human.

“They don’t even pay for the head-dogs,” she grumbled, but split open a bun and slapped in a water sausage anyway.

She didn’t question where Sans got the plants. Asgore’s… the Queen’s house was full of them too, but Undyne was pretty sure Sans illegally sold hot dogs even before…

Yeah. Before the heartless kid murdered Asgore.

“Undyne?”

Crap. Sans didn’t use her real name unless he was worried. How long had she been staring at the stupid hot dog?

“They want mustard on it.”

She nodded, her ponytail feeling heavy as it bobbed behind her. Before, she might’ve squeezed the mustard bottle so hard it exploded. Hell, she might’ve STABBED the mustard with her spears, spraying the thick condiment like a splatter of blood… actually, that would’ve worked better with ketchup. 

But Sans had already drunk all of their ketchup at the start of the shift. His red-stained grin had wavered a bit when she’d met it with a tired stare. 

She settled for squeezing a thin squiggle of mustard inside the bun.

“Here.” She pushed the hot dog across the counter. 

The kid stared at it with sparkling eyes. “Undyne _made my hot dog…_ this is AWESOME! Snowy’s going to be SOOOO jealous! I told him it was worth coming to Hotland!”

“Er… it was nothing,” she mumbled in response. Geez, those puppy eyes were worse than Greater Dog’s.

“Why don’t you put the ‘dog on their head?” Sans suggested.

“Why don’t _you_ put in on their head?” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “You’re the head-dog guy.”

“And you’ve got longer arms.”

“ _You’ve_ got gravity magic!”

“I’m also your boss. And I say put the ‘dog on the head.”  He winked.

 _Ugh._ This was so stupid. No amount of hot dogs, or hot cats, or—or _water sausages_ was going to change anything! They were stuck down here, and this kid—whatever their name was—was just going to die like the rest of them, alone, in the dark, and…

“Would you, yo? I mean, uh, please?” They asked with a grin almost as wide as Sans’s.

She bit back a sigh. “Sure. What the hell— _heck_. Don’t go repeating that in front of your parents, kid.”

The little monster just giggled, then stood straight and still so she could balance the hot dog on their head. She wasn’t as practiced as Sans, so she wedged it in between their spikes rather than balancing it on top of the other two sausages.

“Sweet! Now I have one for all of my friends!” The kid gave a little hop, barely managing not to drop the hot dogs. “Man, I wish that one kid with the blue and purple shirt was still here. Vulkin said they once balanced _twenty-nine_ head-dogs! I could make so many friends if I could do that…!”

Whatever positive feelings the kid’s happiness had on her vanished like dust. Her claws dug into the stand’s wooden counter.

Sans glared at the groove in the wood. “Hey. Hot dog stands don’t grow on trees.”

“This is _literally_ a clone of your sentry station.” She still didn’t know how he did that. Sometimes she felt like asking, just because she had nothing better to do when it was a slow day at the stand. But she doubted he’d give her a straight answer, anyway.

“Clones don’t grow on trees, either.” He shrugged. 

_Seriously_ , it was like everything he did was perfectly tailored to drive her crazy. It almost made her feel up to suplexing something again.

The yellow monster kid waddled off, presumably to find their friends. Vulkin met him about halfway down the path—just in time to see them trip and drop all three hot dogs. One of them exploded on impact, sending fluffy seeds everywhere.

“That’s why we don’t charge for the head-dogs.”  Sans chuckled and put three more water sausages in the hot fridge. But the kid didn’t come back for replacements; they just sat down and awkwardly scooped one hot dog onto their lap with their tail.

“I’m gonna have to talk to that kid’s parents one of these days.” Undyne shook her head. That would probably be easier if she’d actually gotten their name.

“Eh, ‘s good for kids to run around and get dirt on their knees.”  Sans took a swig of the mustard. “Keeps ‘em from thinking about how pointless everything is.”

“Wait.” She blinked, then crouched down to his level. She stared deep into his eyelights to see if he was pranking her again, but couldn’t make out any difference in his expression. “ _You_ feel like everything’s pointless? I thought you and Papyrus were…”

“What? Too stupid to care?” That static grin was still plastered on his face. Sure, he was a skeleton, but even Papyrus showed more emotion than him. “Or maybe too lazy?”

“I never said that!”

“Heh. It doesn’t matter. You’re right.” He winked again. 

Damn, it was getting harder and harder not to punch him. But Papyrus said Sans only had one HP, and there was no reason to get any more monsters killed.

“Look, if you’re just going to keep talking, I’ve got music to listen to.” Napstablook had finished that mixtape they promised, and she hadn’t gotten a free minute to listen yet. 

“‘S up to you. Jam sessions are allowed at the Sans-and-Undies Head-Dog Emporium. Uh, don't take this the wrong way, but you don’t really look up for that.” His voice actually sounded almost serious that time. That was more unsettling than his jokes.

“The only thing I’m _really_ feeling up for is suplexing you into the ground.” And maybe a cup of tea… no, hot soda. She hadn’t been able to drink tea since…

Damn it. She was supposed to be stronger than this. Moping wouldn't bring Asgore back... but neither would anything else.

“Look. Undyne.”  Sans shifted in his chair, planting both feet on the ground and leaning forward. “You’re my brother’s best friend. Which means your happiness affects his happiness.”

She scowled. The last thing she needed was a lecture of _Sans_ of all monsters.

“Papyrus is a tough dude,” she said. “He’s handling everything better than the rest of us.”

The loss of the human souls. Their imprisonment. None of it seemed to sway her friend’s spirits. Why had he wanted in the Royal Guard so badly if none of that mattered to him?

“Yeah. He’s real good keeping a brave face.” Sans’s grin seemed a little more genuine; his eyelights might have glowed a shade brighter. “Doesn’t stop him from worrying about you, though.”

She plopped back in her chair, fighting the childish urge to cross her arms. “So what? You want me to cheer up for him? Not all of us have a stupid grin as our resting face, you know.”

“That’s not what I mean.”  He shook his head. “All I’m saying is he cares about you. A lot of people do.”

Her fins drooped at her cheeks. Giving into this apathy—it was just one more way that she’d let everyone down. She’d sunk so low that even _Sans,_ the guy who didn’t care about anything, thought intervening was a good idea.

That… that actually scared her, just a little.

“I’m fine, dude.” She tried to grin again. It felt more like she was trying not to puke. “Just looking forward to the day Alphy gets us through the barrier and I get to grind that punk human into dust.”

“You’re going to have to try a little harder than that. You’re maybe a fifth of the liar my bro is.”

“What?? That was convincing! You’re convinced!!” 

“Nope.”

His wink was the last straw.

“NGAHHH!” She leapt up and flipped the hot fridge, sending water sausages spilling onto the ground. A few toppled over the ledge into the deep, fiery abyss below.

“Congrats. You just wasted 930 G.”

Undyne blinked. “That’s it? I dumped your dogs off a cliff, and you’re just going to do _math_ at me?”

He shrugged. Her fins quivered when she grit her teeth.

“Look—I don’t even care! I hate this stupid job, and I hate pretending everything’s fine when it _SUCKS!”_

Hands shaking, she summoned a spear and hurled it into the lava below. How long had it been since she’d summoned bullets like this? Her magic’s blue-green color had faded to a sickly chartreuse. That couldn’t be good.

She sat down, staring at her still trembling hands. Maybe… maybe she should have Alphys look at her. Even if everything _was_ hopeless… she didn’t want to fall down. She wasn’t that far gone.

“You’re right,” she said, clenching weak fists. “I suck at lying.”

“There are worse things to suck at. At least you make a mean hot dog.”

She looked up through her bangs. “What part of this is supposed to make me feel better?”

“Sorry.”  He grimaced. “You suck at lying. I suck at getting to the point.”

“Which is?”

“That nothing matters, really. No matter what we do… we’re all just going to be stuck down here.” His eyelights flickered dimly.

“What kind of pep talk is _that_?”

“A realistic one. But the point is… even if we can’t change anything… we can at least try to care about each other, right?”  He crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the stalactites far above. Unlike Waterfall, Hotland didn’t even have gemstones to mistake for stars. Just one more thing to hate about this stupid place. “‘Cause the alternative… it’s not pretty.”

Her brow furrowed. “Huh. I thought this was gonna be some elaborate prank. Didn’t expect you to get deep on me.”

“Heh. I gotta mix up the routine every once in a while, right? Can’t let things get _stale.”_ He pulled a bun out from under the counter.

“Wha—oh, that was _awful_.” She groaned. “You’ve gotta start getting humor lessons from Papyrus. Seriously. Your puns are the _worst.”_

“You mean the _wurst?”_ He picked up one of the fallen water sausages.

“UGH!!! That one isn’t even worth a groan!!”

“Darn. You’ve cracked my secret. I’m just trying to provoke the worst groans I can.” He winked.

“I can’t even tell if that’s supposed to be dirty or not.”

“I—”

“Nope, don’t tell me. Don’t want to know.” She set the hot fridge back upright. A few water sausages remained at the back of it. It didn’t look like it would matter, though—her outburst had scared off every monster within sight of the stand.

Hopefully they’d still made today enough to cover rent. Even though she was pretty sure the Queen would help them (especially Sans) out if they really needed it, Undyne hated to rely on the mercy of Asgore’s ex.

Sans chuckled. “You get what I mean though. We can’t go back… but we’ve still got good friends, good food… that’s enough for now, right?”

Was it? Was it enough? For now, maybe, but forever?

Could it ever be enough when the only dad she’d ever had was gone?

She squeezed her eyes shut. She wouldn’t let _Sans_ of all people see her cry. 

But then again… if anyone wasn’t going to care...

A few droplets fell on her jeans.

“Trust me, Undyne,” he said quietly. “Things could be a lot worse.”

“I guess,” she finally muttered. She had Alphys, and Papyrus, and even the Queen, sort of. 

And Sans, for what he was worth.

“The food could be better, though,” she grumbled in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Heh. I guess we can’t all have taste.”  He took a swig of mustard again, then flashed a row of yellow-covered teeth.

“You’re disgusting, you know that?”

He belched. Loudly. It was almost impressive how he could pull that off without lungs.

“It’s part of my charm.”

“Geez. How does the queen put up with you?”

"I guess she's got a soft spot for con men."

He winked. She could've sworn he blushed a little though. Maybe Alphys's "headcanons" about those two had some merit after all.

"You’re not fooling anyone, punk. This hot dog stand is only illegal because you think it's cooler that way. Well, and because you don't pay taxes."

"I don't have to. Because I'm a con man." He picked up the mustard. "You know. Condiment man."

Her eyes widened as the pun sank in. Then—though she tried to fight it—a snort escaped her.

Okay, maybe it was more than a snort. Dang it if that one wasn't clever.

Sans just sat back and smiled. "Though if there's one law I'll follow, it's taking our government-mandated breaks. What do you say about grabbing Grillby's?"

If he'd asked at the start of the shift, she probably would've said it was pointless. They couldn't break the barrier with greasy burgers. Oversalted fries couldn't bring Asgore back.

But she guessed they could make new memories, with the friends they still had. That’s what the big guy would’ve wanted, right?

"Can we bring some to Alphys? I need to make sure she eats something besides instant noodles." And she needed to make sure _she_ was taking her government-mandated breaks.

"Knock yourself out. It's going on your tab, anyway." 

She shoved him (carefully). "Nice try, nerd. Since we're roomies, my tab is your tab!"

"Hey, works for me. Have fun picking up the 25,913 G I owe Grillbz."

Undyne didn't really care who paid for the food. But she did care about her friends—and that feeling was worth more than all the hot dogs in the world.


End file.
